Winter Is a Terrible Place

Bronzed breast bone. Rattle rattle.Even the air tastes like metal.Mercury glass. The backs of spoons. Poor Brooklyn.I-beams sway to comfort me.All of Poland has turned out to hold my hands.Gently weeping wolves. The tender hare.I am disloyal to my own tears.Thank you for breaking up with mein the park. Now I get to hatetrees. Each dead leaf has a specialmeaning: Death. Sleeping is a long slow fight.Night makes breath sad clouds.Dark breaks around every sound.Each time the phone rings I remember who I am.I'm Lauren Ireland. I thought I told you to shut up.